The Accidental Assassin (Assassins #1)

by Nichole Chase

  “He’s not dying. He’s dead.” His free hand slid down the outside of my leg before sliding up the inside of my thighs, brushing along my panties. “How did he know about the bomb?”

  “Hey! Fuck off, pervert!” I stepped back, my heel landing on his instep just like I’d learned in college, but he didn’t budge. If this was a cop, he’d just crossed my boundaries. I tried to wiggle away from him again and he just grunted.

  “Who do you work for?” He leaned close, his body pressing into mine so that he could keep me in place as his hands rummaged through my pockets before moving to trace the underwire of my bra with strong fingers. “Where’s your weapon?”

  “Get off me!” I managed to get one arm free and twisted in his grasp, just enough for my elbow to make contact with his jaw.

  He stepped back and I spun away from the car, intent on making a run for it. Stepping to the side, he blocked the most direct route to the exit, and officially filled my view. His narrowed gaze did nothing to diminish the impact of his green eyes and I wanted to punch him for turning out to be a creep.

  “You?” I frowned, disoriented. “What the hell is wrong with you? We need to get help for him! And you need to keep your hands to yourself.” I shoved him and tried to get back to Mr. Song.

  “You can drop the innocent act. He’s dead.” He stepped closer and gripped my arm. “And I don’t appreciate you taking my hit. When did they hire you?”

  “What are you talking about?” I tried to edge further away from him. “He’s dead?” Hit? My breath hitched. I’d killed someone? I’d killed someone on my way to an interview. Oh my God, I killed him. Nausea washed over me and I sucked in air like a dying fish.

  “What’s your name?” Green Eyes considered my face carefully. He seemed to be studying me, processing whatever he saw in my eyes. With a jerk of his head he motioned toward Mr. Song’s mangled body and I shuddered. “Two weeks and he never once checked his car. Until today. Have you been tailing me?”

  “Tailing you?” I yanked myself away from him and wrapped my arms around my midsection. I was a murderer. Was it manslaughter, or vehicular homicide? Did they use those terms in the UK? My brain couldn’t process the fact that I had killed a man so it resorted to being angry. It was like there were short circuits in my grey matter. It didn’t compute; didn’t make sense. How could I have killed a man, just like that?

  “Your name.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Go to hell! I’m not telling you my name.” I looked away from Song’s body and fought the bile rising in my throat.

  “We’re standing over a dead man that you just killed in a parking garage. I’d think telling me your name would be the least of your worries.” His mouth twitched.

  “Or it’s a really good damn reason not to! Now get out of my way so I can go get him help.” I started to step around him, but he moved to block my way.

  “You really didn’t mean to kill him.” The realization swept over his face.

  “No shit, Sherlock.” My heart was beating so fast I could swear he could hear it. I stared into his eyes, wishing that I could understand what was going on. Wishing that we were talking under different circumstances.

  A loud shot filled the garage and Green Eyes threw himself into me and pulled me to the ground.

  “What the fuck?” I tried to scramble away from him, but he wouldn’t let me up.

  “Be still!” He looked down at me and I froze. There was no denying the serious look in his eyes. “Don’t move.”

  He slid off of me and rolled onto his side, scanning under the cars. I could hear the steps of someone as they walked across the concrete, and I felt the flutters of panic grip my throat. I looked around trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. Warm fingers closed on my wrist and I looked to where Green Eyes jerked his chin.

  About four cars away I could see red heels next to a tire. Squeezing my hand to get my attention, this man that had just felt me up now motioned for me to be quiet and follow him. He pointed for me to climb into the driver side of the car next to us and I shook my head. Hadn’t he been here five minutes ago when I ran someone over? He jerked his head again and pointed at me, then back at the car.

  I shook my head and pointed at the dead man whose blood was slowly creeping across the pavement toward us. I’d killed the poor man, I wasn’t about to steal his car, too. And now someone was trying to kill us. Probably a bodyguard or maybe the police.

  Another shot slammed into the side of Danny’s car and I moved without thinking. Apparently self-preservation was an instinct. Yanking open the door of Song’s car, I flew into the driver seat and searched for the keys. I was vaguely aware of Green Eyes standing up and calmly pointing a gun over the roof of the car before firing.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” My grandmother would be horrified at my language, but damn it, if there was ever a time to use it, it was now ! “There’s no key!” I looked over at the man coolly sliding into the passenger seat.

  The coldest green eyes I’d ever seen met mine and I shivered. He handed me a single silver key—obviously a copy of the original, but I didn’t care. I shoved it into the ignition and threw the car in reverse. There was a sickening crunch, but I didn’t have time to feel bad about running over Mr. Song again. A loud crack had me ducking as a bullet slammed into the back window. It didn’t shatter though, and in some distant part of my mind I wondered why Mr. Song had bulletproof glass.

  “Feel free to run over anyone else in our way.” Calmly he turned in his seat and lowered his window. Humor warmed his eyes.

  “Not funny.” I turned the first corner of the garage just as he fired another shot. The sound made me wince and I jerked the steering wheel. The car clipped the bumper of a delivery van and threw Green Eyes against his door.

  “I was joking. Please try to not do that.” He looked at me, his expression serious. “There’s a bomb on the bottom of this car.”

  I turned to look at him and felt my mouth fall open. “A bomb! There’s a bomb in this car? Why is there a bomb in this car? What kind of bomb?”

  “The kind that goes boom. It was meant for Mr. Song, who you managed to kill without a bomb, and technically it’s on the car, not in it.” He twisted in his seat so that he was facing forward again. “It should be fine. It’s set to go off by remote and I have that right here.” He patted his pocket.

  I twisted the steering wheel sharply as I exited the garage and almost knocked over the doorman. But he was holding a large gun in one hand and to my shock he fired directly at my window. The glass shattered, but I didn’t feel any pain, which I hoped meant I wasn’t hit. I ducked in a belated reaction and the car swerved wildly, but the gun-toting hottie next to me steadied the wheel.

  “I knew that doorman didn’t like me.” I gritted my teeth. “What an asshole. He’s almost as bad as you are.”

  “I’ll drive now, if you’d like.” He said it like we were taking turns on a road trip, not running for our lives. Maybe he wasn’t running for his life. But I was still running for mine. I didn’t know what this guy wanted with me. Was I supposed to just let him drive me to some creepy kill room? An image of walls draped in plastic, knives on a table, and a bed with chains filled my mind. I didn’t think so.

  “Now? You want to drive now?” My voice rose with each word. “Sure, I’ll pull over at the corner for a snack and let you take over. Holy shit! Are you crazy?”

  “Has anyone ever told you that for such a beautiful woman you have a very dirty mouth?” He smiled at me as my mouth worked silently. “I think I like the odd combination.”

  “Fuck you.” I glared at the road.

  “So does that mean you don’t want me to drive?” He nodded toward the traffic that was growing thicker. “Do you have a plan for where to go?”

  “The cops.” I didn’t mention that I had no idea where they would be located. I’d just stop the first one I saw. “And you told me to get in the driver seat.”

  “You’re sure you want to go to t
he police?” He leaned back into his seat, getting comfortable. He looked, for all the world, as if riding around in a car with a bomb attached to it was normal. “You killed a man and fled the scene in his stolen car—which has a bomb attached to it. Oh, and someone was trying to kill you. I’m sure being locked in a tiny room with nowhere to run will make their job much more difficult.”

  “Maybe they were trying to kill you. I can imagine why they’d want to.” I growled and turned down a street that was one way only. And I was going the wrong way. I muttered under my breath as I dodged cars and people honked at me. “I should’ve stayed in bed today.”

  “Possibly. They were very sloppy.” He pointed to a street. “You should turn here and take the roundabout.”

  “Roundabout?” My heart dropped into my stomach and I broke into a cold sweat. “That seems like a bad idea.”

  Roundabouts were the devil. If you’ve ever tried to drive through a roundabout after years of driving in America, you’d understand. Everything was completely backward to how you instinctually drove. It gave me an ulcer just thinking about it.

  “We’re being followed. We need to lose them.” He looked at me with serious eyes. “If you want to live, we need to put distance between us and the people in the black sedan.”

  “Oh, Jesus.” I jerked the wheel and our car shot down the road toward the evil traffic circle of death.

  “Don’t stop, go around them.” I swerved into oncoming traffic to avoid the cars waiting at the stop sign. Horns blared, people shouted, and I gritted my teeth. If I made it out of this alive, I’d kiss the ground.

  I could hear people screeching to a halt as I blew into the traffic circle and weaved between the cars.

  “Here.” He pointed to a road and I didn’t hesitate as I turned. Belatedly, I wondered where the police were. Surely there should be screeching sirens and flashing lights in my rearview mirror at any minute. The part of me that wasn’t required to pay attention prayed to have someone else to turn this mess over to, someone to make sense of the last thirty minutes.

  Had it even been thirty minutes? Probably closer to five minutes. It felt like hours.

  A pedestrian stepped into a crosswalk and I slammed on my brakes. Dear God, don’t let me kill anyone else. The rear tires slid in a wild fishtail and my arms locked stiffly as I fought the wheel to keep control. Without thinking I took my foot off of the brake and slammed it onto the gas pedal, wrenching the vehicle around the dazed man and through the intersection.

  “Nice.” Green Eyes nodded his head as if I had done something impressive when I had only been trying to not pee my pants.

  “If I can’t go to the cops, where do you suggest I go?” I gritted my teeth as I tore through another intersection.

  “Out of town would be best.” His head ducked so he could look out the mirror on his side of the car. “The less people around, the better we can stay hidden.”

  I took a deep breath. “So I’m stuck with you?”

  “It could be worse.” He shrugged.

  “How could it possibly be worse? I just killed a man in a fucking parking garage! I killed him! His brains are probably stuck to the cement!”

  “Well, you could be trapped with the people shooting at you right now.” He pointed toward a side street. “And it’s not your fault. Song was creeping through the garage trying to not be seen. There was no way you could know that he was behind you. The blood splatter would prove your innocence.”

  Pedestrians stopped to watch as our car squealed by.

  “You thought I killed him on purpose.” I gripped the steering wheel.

  “I thought you had very cleverly stolen my ticket, but once I calmed down I realized you hadn’t meant to do it.”

  “Ticket?” I was innocent. I knew I was innocent, but I still felt horrible. Guilt gnawed at my stomach and squeezed my chest.

  “You need to turn. You’ve been on this street for too long.”

  Yanking the wheel, the car slid around the corner and onto an empty road. I could still see the other car in my side mirror and had no idea how I was supposed to lose them.

  “What do we do?” I turned the car down a different road without being told to. I had no idea where I was going, except for away.

  “We need to get on the motorway.” My eyes must’ve widened, because he reached out and touched my arm. His gaze was steady, no signs that he was panicked or worried about lying. “We can switch. I’ll keep you safe.”

  My gaze darted to his. “What’s your name?”

  There was a moment’s hesitation before he answered. “Owen.”

  “Ava.” I looked back at the road and swerved around a car that had stopped to let someone out.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ava.” His lips turned up and I felt something different than guilt flutter through my chest. “Will you let me drive now?”

  “How?” I couldn’t stop. Who knew what would happen if I stopped. Would they just start shooting at us? Would they shoot other people in their attempt to get us?

  “Get on the M1 and we’ll trade.” His fingers squeezed my arm. “It’ll be easy.” There was no way switching drivers while on some sort of expressway would be easy.

  “Where is the M1?” Something slammed into the back windshield and I ducked. They had shot at us. In public. So much for hoping they were trying to get us somewhere quiet.

  “We’re not far. Can you get us a few more blocks?” His eyes were so calm, as if nothing was happening and we were just practicing driving around the town.

  “Pfft. No problem. I’ve gotten us this far.” Where the hell this bravado was coming from, I had no idea. But I noticed the smile on his face, and knew that I’d put it there.

  “That’s my girl.”

  His girl? Hardly. Under other circumstances… well, that wasn’t an option now. Following his directions, we made our way to the on ramp without any accidents. The car tailing us never disappeared, no matter how hard I mentally wished flat tires on them. I sped up, going around cars until we had a nice swatch of clear road. I looked on the dash until I found the cruise control and hit the little button.

  “Okay.”

  He reached over and unbuckled the seat belt I hadn’t realized I had put on. Sliding his arm behind my back, he shifted over the center console and moved closer to me. Carefully I used my feet to push up so he could slide underneath me. His body pushed against mine and I could feel every manly inch of him pressed behind me, down to the muscles his button up shirt concealed. As his hands slid around my waist to help steady me, his thumbs pressed against my back and rubbed soft circles, as if he was trying to comfort me—but instead it was accomplishing the exact opposite. I let the weight off of my feet, easing down on to his lap so I could move to the other seat.

  “I’m ready.” His voice was husky in my ear and for a second I thought about telling him I was more than ready myself. Thankfully I was able to keep my senses and remember that there was someone intent on killing me in a car not far behind us.

  With extreme caution I tried to lift my left leg so that I could step over the console, but my skirt was too tight. Understanding the problem, his hands slid moved down my hips and over my skirt so he could slip it up my thighs. Goosebumps erupted along my skin as his knuckles brushed along my legs. Once the material was high enough that I could lift my leg, I slid into the other seat and let him take control of the steering wheel.

  “Buckle up.” He smiled at me as he took the car off cruise control and hit the gas pedal.

  I HAD TO force my mind back onto the task at hand as Ava adjusted herself in her seat. She checked the side mirror before turning to look at me.

  “What are you going to do?” Her voice held a throaty edge that made me smile. Apparently she had enjoyed changing seats as much as I had. It was certainly a better sound than the horror it had held earlier.

  “Lose them.” I wrenched the car around a tour bus and tried to put a little more distance between us and the idiots following clo
se behind. There were only two real options. Lose them in traffic, or take them out. And I had a feeling that Ava would be upset if I used my particular skill set right now.

  Knowing that there was road construction nearby, I headed there. It would be one of the easiest ways to lose our tail. And then I needed to get somewhere safe so I could work out just what was going on here.

  “Ava? Why would someone want to kill you?”

  “Me? I don’t know! What about you? You put bombs under people’s cars. Maybe they’re trying to kill you.”

  “They were aiming for you, Ava.” I swerved around another family car and gritted my teeth when our tail almost clipped their bumper. “I was just collateral damage in that scenario.”

  “They’re stopping!” Ava reached up and grabbed the handle above her door.

  “Yes.”

  “Then why are you speeding up?” Her voice rose in pitch.

  “To try and lose the car behind us in the construction zone.” I swerved and clipped the side mirror on the railing in a shower of sparks. “Or would you rather have me stop so we can try to talk out our differences?”

  The hand that wasn’t bracing her jerked out and slammed into my arm.

  I swerved just a little and she gasped loudly. “Sorry.”

  “This is going to be close.” Up ahead I could see some of the equipment moving and seized my chance. As cars merged into one lane, I whipped into the narrowing emergency lane. Up ahead the extra space was being used for regular traffic and that would be our best chance at bottlenecking our chaser. We sideswiped a taxi and I could hear Ava cursing under her breath and muttering about the bomb, but we made it through.

  Loud pops had Ava ducking in her seat, but we had managed to get them trapped for at least a couple of minutes, which would give us time to lose them.

  “Shit. Where are the cops?” Ava peeked over her shoulder and out the window.

  “Oh, I’m sure they’re coming.” I pulled off at an exit and turned down a quiet road. “We need to change cars.”

  “Great. Now you’re a car thief?” Ava wrinkled her nose.